As he arose choking with broken-winded profanity Red dragged the animal to the fire, and Billy forgot his grievances in the press of labor.
"How many, Buck ?" Asked Red.
"One-eighty." "How does she stand ?" "Yore eighteen to th' bad," replied the foreman.

"Th' son-of-a-gun!" marveled Red, riding off.
Another whoop interrupted them, and Billy quit watching out of the corner eye for pugnacious calves as he prepared for Hopalong.
"Hey, Buck, this here cuss was with a Barred-Horseshoe cow," he announced as he turned it over to the branding man.

Buck made a tally in a separate column and released the animal.

"Hullo, Red! Workin' ?" Asked Hopalong of his rival.
"Some, yu little cuss," answered Red with all the good nature in the world.

Hopalong was his particular "side partner," and he could lose to him with the best of feelings.
"Yu looks so nice an' cool, an' clean, I didn't know," responded Hopalong, eyeing a streak of sweat and dust which ran from Red's eyes to his chin and then on down his neck.
"What yu been doin'?
Plowin' with yore nose ?" Returned Red, smiling blandly at his friend's appearance.
"Yah!" snorted Hopalong, wheeling toward the corral.